


Take All You Can and Give Nothing Back

by The_Queen_of_France_and_Her_Empire



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pirate, I'll get better I promsise, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pirate Alexander Hamilton, Pirate George Washington, Pirate Hercules Mulligan, Pirate John Laurens, Pirate Marquis de Lafayette, Privateer Thomas Jefferson, Sort Of, They're all Pirates basically, i literally have no idea how to tag, just trust me on this, this is my first time doing this bare with me
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-31
Updated: 2019-05-31
Packaged: 2020-04-05 17:24:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19044988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Queen_of_France_and_Her_Empire/pseuds/The_Queen_of_France_and_Her_Empire
Summary: Thomas Jefferson is a captain and company owner turned British privateer, but working under His Majesty King George III with a deadline that could easily be taken literally if not met puts more than a little strain on the old captain. But when an unfortunate event occurs that puts his future in the hands of young pirate captain Alexander Hamilton, will the veteran sailor find a new and better life outside of the law or will the King manage to take back his 'precious' privateer before Jefferson even has a chance?





	1. Prologue - The Will of the Golden Throne

**Author's Note:**

> Alright, so, hey everyone! This is the very first fic I've posted, like, anywhere on the internet so I hope you all like it! I'm more than happy to receive constructive criticism in the comments if you have anything to say, or even if you just want to say hi! Anyways, I hope you enjoy!

On what should just be another cloudy day in the city of London, England, while regular people are going about their everyday lives, an unexpected visitor pulls into the harbour. The massive dark fuchsia and gold trimmed galleon stops just short of running aground, its flag of a golden swan resting on a brilliant white rose over-top of a bright fuchsia backdrop still flying proudly and the elaborate, golden letters spelling out _'The Sea Maiden'_ glisten brilliantly even without the sun. But while the crew begins to tie the ship down, a figure swings off the main deck with a loose rope and lands on the dock with a dull thud. The tall, dark-skinned man adjusts his fanciful captain's hat adorned with a few magenta feathers and brushes off his matching and equally elaborate magenta coat as he straightens himself out.

        "James, watch the ship!" He calls out back to the boat, grabbing the attention of a short, even darker skinned man in a dull silver coat, "And don't let any of these damn royalists get anywhere near her! This day's going bad enough already." He adds, scowling at a pair of nearby redcoats that were eyeing the massive galleon with suspicion and earning a salute from James, who quickly gets back to work before the captain sets off at a determined pace down the docks and into the city of London.

        The Captain gets more than his fair share of strange looks; mainly from the higher class citizens out on their afternoon stroll, as he continues on his way deeper into the city. Considering the fact that his feathered hat, elaborate and brightly coloured clothing, dark and curly wind-blown hair, the rapier and pistol at his side, and the large amount of golden jewelry (including, but not limited to: a pair of hoop earrings, a trio of medallion necklaces, and almost too many rings to count) made him look less like your average sailor and definitely stuck him out of the crowd like a peacock with a murder of crows.

        "Mum, Mum! Look at tha' man o'er there, I think he's a pirate!" An awestruck, poorer looking young boy calls out suddenly, grabbing his mother's sleeve and pointing at the captain, also catching the attention of a few other passersby, but once the young woman follows her son's gaze she's quick to smack him across the back of his head with a glare

        "Watch your tongue, Sam! That 'pirate' is none other than Thomas Jefferson, the owner of one of the largest trading companies in the world, not some sea fairing thief!" She scolds in an angered hiss, but an old woman who was eavesdropping scoffs quietly at the mother's words.

        "No self-respecting businessman I've ever met dresses like _that_ , and we've all heard the rumours about how he picks up the extra to afford all of his estates and whatnot." She grumbles, but as the mother rolls her eyes and opens her mouth to respond, a third lady carrying some grocery bags butts into the conversation.

        "Pirate or not, what the real question is is why Mr. Jefferson is even here in London of all places. Everyone knows he retired to France only nine months ago." She states with a slight raise of her eyebrows, and soon the three women are arguing and gossiping about Thomas Jefferson and almost anything even remotely related to the captain, leaving the young boy stuck without any proper answers. But just as he looks back into the crowd to find some type of entertainment for himself, he catches the eye of none other than the subject of his mother's gossip himself, and Jefferson gives the boy a smirk and a knowing look before continuing through the streets at a determined pace.

        There's a confident and headstrong glint in Captain Jefferson's eyes as he walks straight up to the destination he had set out for in the beginning: the Royal Palace. He marches straight through the gilded front gates, pushing past any guards that try to stop him and glaring at the few who don't act but look like they think about trying, and soon bursts into the throne room, even though he was still being trailed by a pair of guards that were shouting at him to stop. Jefferson still stays steadfast and marches right up to George William Fredrick III, the very king of Britain himself.

        "All I wanted to do was enjoy my retirement in peace. Maybe spend the time to relish in the fruits of labours, enjoy a nice glass of fine wine as I sit on the porch of my French villa and look over the coast, and hopefully spend the rest of my years in relative bliss..." The captain proclaims, stopping just in front of the King on his throne, and pulls out a folded piece of parchment with a fancy, red wax seal, "... But apparently, not even a man like me can enjoy that. So do tell me, _Your Majesty_ , what in God's good name do you think you're doin'?" He asks, tossing the parchment down at the King's feet with a glare and annoyance clear in his tone, while His Majesty raises an eyebrow at the captain before he snaps his fingers at one of the two guards by his side in a silent order for him to pick up the parchment.

        "You must be quite the man to have made it past all of my staff so quickly... Now if only I could place a name to your face might I be more impressed." He comments with a saccharine sweet smile before he takes the parchment from the guard and unfolds it, glancing over the words written inside it, "Ah, that's right! You are Mr. Jefferson, that captain no one can seem to stop talking about!" He adds with an oddly childish giggle for someone like a king, but Jefferson just continues to stare up at the royal with impatient tapping of his foot and a cross of his arms, "Of course, of course, how could I be so silly? Meaningless chatter is not your style, this is more like an impromptu business meeting to you, right?" The King then says as if his were words were nothing more than an innocent little comment, but there's this look in his eyes that's accompanied with this smirk that makes Jefferson suddenly regret ever showing his face in the country as His Majesty leans towards him, "It's quite simple, _Mr. Jefferson_ , your stocks, your estates, your company, your income and _all_ of your precious little ships now belong to me." He explains as his smirk and expression only growing wider and stronger, but Jefferson manages to shake off the moment of panic to respond.

        "That's preposterous! You have no right, king or not, to take away my life and my work, and I certainly never remember handing over any deeds to you!" He spits back in response, anger growing clear in his tone, but the King seems unfazed by his words and only offers a muttered 'tsk' in response before he snaps his fingers at a young boy with short brown hair and a pair of round, cracked glasses wearing a toned-down version of the redcoat's uniform with a simple white scarf. The captain only notices him once the King brings the attention in the room to him, but the boy quickly runs off with a nervous nod at His Majesty's silent order, running back into the room not even five minutes later carrying handfuls of rolled up parchment in his arms and hands them to the king without a word.

        "Let's see here... the deed to the Jeffersonian Estates-" the king says as he unrolls the first contract, "- The deeds to the Golden Swan trading and shipping company along with all of its stocks-" He unrolls another two contracts as he continues, "- And finally the deeds to you and you're friends' precious little ships." He then finishes, unrolling the last of the contracts and holding them all out for Jefferson to see. The captain doesn't even need to open his mouth to express his disbelief and anger, his face says it all, and His Majesty is more than happy to answer his unspoken question, "This is the most wonderful about being a king, you can take whatever you want and no one will even bat an eye... and you are an American citizen, a subject of my dear colonies, are you not?" He asks, causing Jefferson to pause and become more than a little taken aback, "I mean, despite your years on the seas away from your home you still carry that little accent with you. You are not exactly trying to hide your Virginian roots after all... still feeling proud over the wide open fields and lush farmland of the New World, hm?" The king then taunts with an all too delighted chuckle, "Of course there are still the documents that I used to confirm my suspicions, but that's beside the point." He adds all too nonchalantly, and Jefferson just stares at him in disbelief, his brain running at a million miles a minute until he finally decides the best course of action. Pure. Fury.

        "How dare you! How absolutely dare you! I don't care who you are or what your titles are, but no man has the right to steal the essence of another's life away, not even a king, and I will back what's rightfully mine even if it kills me!" He exclaims with a blazing glare, drawing his rapier and rushing at the King, though he's quickly shoved back by the two guards and nearly executed on the spot. Still, in some sort of sick and sadistic manner, His Majesty straight out laughs.

        "My, my, so the rumours are true, despite all the years behind you your spark of passion still remains bright as ever..." He comments in a near purr that sounds far too disturbing as he drums his fingers against the arm of his throne and watches Jefferson and the guards struggle.

        "You're damn right I haven't lost my spark! And if you don't want to get burned I suggest you surrender now!" The captain barks back in response, only stopping in his attacks against the guards when the end of a musket is pressed right up against the side of his head, and the King just laughs again.

        "And you are quite the little warrior too! One who could be a valuable asset to any army... how about we make a deal." He then suggests as a devilish smirk crawls it's way onto his face, managing to catch the captain off guard.

        "A deal...?" He asks with a skeptical expression.

        "Yes, a deal. I have a few little errands that I need to be done and you're exactly the type of man that will get them done. I'll give you a privateer contract for, oh, I don't know, let's say three years. If you simply follow my orders and get what I need done, you'll have all your precious property back in no time! So how does that sound?" The King offers, the devilish smirk on his face only widening as he leans forward to look the captain in the eyes, but Jefferson is smart enough to know that there had to be some sort of catch.

        "What if I don't agree to the terms or deny your deal in the first place? Or if the contract runs out before I get all your 'errands' done...?" He asks, cautiously lowering his rapier as he looks back at the King.

        "Well, it's quite the simple answer really. That little stunt you just tried to pull can't go unpunished, you'll need to be made an example of! I'm sure all your little sailor friends will learn quite quickly not to cross me once they hear about how I hung your lifeless body out in the harbour like a little Christmas ornament!" His Majesty says with a bright smile and a laugh that could make even the bravest warrior's skin crawl as Jefferson freezes with fear at the situation he's put himself in. He realizes that he's trapped. He has the choices of either taking on a probably impossible to complete contract or forcefully come face to face with his own grave. Of course, Jefferson isn't one to go down without a fight, so as he sighs to himself and lowers his head he prays to whatever god that was listening that his friends would get themselves out before they fell into the King's hands.

        "You have yourself a deal, _Your Highness_." He grumbles in response as he reluctantly sheathes his rapier, while the King chuckles darkly and snaps his fingers at the guards in another silent order, and in response, the redcoat knocks one of the captain's knees out from under him and forces him into a bow.

        "It's a pleasure doing business with you, Mr. Jefferson..."


	2. Chapter 1 - A Different Life, a Different World

There was a slight rocking of the boat with the waves as a handful on pens rolled across the deep mahogany desk fixated in the middle of the room. Thomas Jefferson was sitting behind this desk, scribbling a few notes in his ship log, but this Thomas Jefferson was different than from what many may have known him as. Not only was he a few years older, but his extravagant magenta outfit and brilliant gold accessories had been swapped out for the much more toned-down and 'civilized' modified British admiral's uniform, the only remnants he veteran captain being able to keep were his gold hoop earrings and a single ring. Even still, Jefferson still somehow managed to retain the spark of determination and wit that made him so infamous in the days of his youth through his time spent as a privateer obeying the King's every beck and call.

        Of course, none of those details mattered to the man himself at the moment, he had learned to tolerate most of the changes at the least over time, all that really mattered to him at the moment was getting all the blasted paperwork done to finally clear off his desk and take a break,

        "C'mon, Thomas, you've been through more than this. You've escaped hurricanes in little more than a lifeboat, you've fought fleets of ships all on you're own, you even manage to get all your errands done in this pathetic excuse of a ship when that damned king kept your most prized vessel like some sort of sick trophy!--" He takes a moment to breathe and calm himself down before he breaks something,"-- You can manage something as simple as some paperwork... right?" He mutters to himself, practically praying for some kind of motivation continue other than the rapidly dissipating spite he had been running on as he reaches over to the inkwell to refill his quill. Unfortunately, the action causes a small but precarious stack of papers to flutter to the ground. The captain curses himself quietly as he begrudgingly gets up to fix the mess he just made, but he pauses for a moment when his gaze lands on the document that would probably haunt him for the rest of his days. The privateering contract His Majesty George III, King of Britain made him sign on what only seemed like yesterday. Of course, Jefferson tries to brush aside the document and just sort it back into the rest of the pile, but unfortunately there's one glaring detail scrawled in dark ink on the parchment that practically mocks the veteran captain. The termination date. It was only three months away, which meant he only had three months left to complete his 'little' errand, and of course the name of those stupid little numbers not only meant the end of his time as a British privateer, but also the time with his mortal coil. It was then, though, that Jefferson managed to pull himself out of his thoughts and place the pile of papers back down on his desk, grabbing his rapier and using it like a cane as he paces back and forth, convincing himself that it was just to stretch his legs and not to shake off the anxiety.

        Jefferson only has a few moments of peace before he hears muttering coming from outside his door. He assumes it's the two guards that are always stationed outside of the door to his quarters bored and trying to amuse themselves, so he decides to eavesdrop just to amuse himself for a while.

        "So... ya heard any rumors lately?" The first guard asks, the smirk on his face practically an audible, and the second guard laughs.

        "Yeah, I got something you'll like, it's about our dear old cap'in and why we're always sailin' around everywhere and anywhere." He says, trying and failing at whispering as Jefferson rolls his eyes from the other side of the door with an internal scoff, even though he doesn't stop either of them from continuing to gossip.

        "Well, now you've just got me interested." The first replies, and the second guard makes a point of dramatically clearing his throat before he begins.

        "So this is a but of a long one, so yer just gonna hafta bare with me for a moment. So we all know that our good ol' captain was tasked with findin' thosed damned Iron Talon pirates, right? But none of us ever figured out what we spent six weeks doin' sitting in the New York harbor." He explains with a bit of a chuckle, "Rumor has it that one of his old friends live there, and now you didn't hear this from me, but in the past he didn't exactly run the most legal of businesses in the past and that friend of his had a couple of connections." The second guard finishes with a little chuckle, and the first guard nods a bit, and Jefferson shakes his head a bit.

        "Not like that matters anyways..." He grumbles to himself before the first guard responds.

        "Yeah.. I think I remember something like that floatin' around. Aaron Burr they said his name was? He sounds boring if you'd ask me." He comments with a bit of a chuckle, and the second guard laughs along with him.

        "That's what the rumors say anyways, but our good ol' captain got a tip from 'im that to get to the big bad of the Talon's he had to get to one of the lesser guys. The Ringleader's got a bit of a fatherly attachment to him or somethin'." He says through the chuckling with an audible smirk, "So Jefferson's been tryin' to find this guy for the past, what, almost three years? And now his contract's running out and he still 'asn't got a clue." The second guard finishes with a bit of a sigh.

        "The poor bastard... no one's probably heard from him all that time. I remember how he always used to be the talk of the town, but now probably everyone thinks he's dead." The first guard sighs with a bit of a shake of his head, "Not that it actually matters, hah, Jefferson doesn't got much less to live for anyways." He then adds with a chuckle, but this is when the veteran captain finally decides to stop the two before his name gets defamed among his entire crew.

        "Oi, you two! If you want to gossip like a pair of teenage girls, do it on your own time!" He shouts, giving the door a hard kick as a sort of warning and earning a pair of mumbled and scared 'yes sir's. Jefferson then sighs as he walks back over to his desk and sits down with a shake of his head, trying to rid himself of the new doubts the two guard's gossip had planted in his head, "Snap yourself out of it, Thomas! You're right on that damned pirate's trail, there's nothing stopping you from getting him this time. You've scoured the entire Atlantic for Poseidon's sake! A strike of luck is bound to find it's way to you soon enough." He mumbles to himself, confidence sparking in his eyes for a moment before he crashes into reality again, "Who are you fooling, Thomas... you're no better than a dead man spouting tales of adventure..." He then adds to himself with a breathy sigh, resigning himself to just staring at his half finished captain's log in silence.

        Jefferson stays like this for a long while, just staring at what could be the last scraps of his legacy in silence until the sun starts to sink beneath the waves until he decides the silence is enough and he might as well try to enjoy his evening. He digs through one of the drawers in his desk and pulls out a small, surprisingly simple wooden music box, then winding it up and letting simple but nostalgic melody of a sea shanty fill the room. "Ah... if only we could go back to the simpler days when blissful ignorance was abundant and rum available for all." He mutters with dream-clouded eyes as he leans back in his chair and kicks his feet up on the desk with a smile, starting to hum along with the song as it progresses and slowly comes to a close.

        For a while, the world seems peaceful, something the veteran captain hadn't had the pleasure of experiencing in a long while. The sounds of the waves mixed with the occasional clunking of footsteps on the deck above and the music box bringing him the comfort he needed, but when Jefferson leans forwards to wind of the music box again the footsteps above become frantic and coupled with shouting before the crashing 'KABOOM!!' of cannon fire rings loud for all to hear. In a second, Jefferson shoves the music box in his pocket and is on his feet with his sword in his hand, a young, already bloody and bruised redcoat bursting through the door with a terrified expression.

        "C-Cap'in Jefferson, sir! The pirates, th-the Iron Talons, H-Hamilton, they've found us!!"


	3. Chapter 2 - The Newest Name on the Seven Seas

Just an hour earlier...

The waves were calm and the skies were a glorious blue as a bright-eyed young man stands atop the crow's nest of a scrappy bilander with bright sails flying free with the wind. The young man chuckles to himself as a small, green and yellow parakeet flies up to him and plays in the breeze for a moment before perching on his shoulder.

        "So, I'm already needed back on deck, eh Pip?" He asks the bird with a smirk before he grabs onto a loose rope by his side and swings down to the main deck with a cheer as his emerald green coat flaps in the wind and the golden feathers on his hat glisten in the sun. This bright young man was none other than Alexander Hamilton; the youngest pirate captain this side of the Atlantic and quite possibly one of the best in the world; and that certainly wasn't just a rumour on the waves. Hamilton had the wits and attitude about him to lead any crew into victory, and he was always more than happy to prove it. "Oi, Johnny boy! A little birdie told me that  ya've already started to miss me!" The captain calls out with a smirk and a chuckle, brown boots clunking against the dark wooden deck and cutlass and revolver clattering against each other on his hip as he approaches his first.

                "Oh, shut it, will ya? A Letter from the big man came in while we were taking inventory from the last raid. He wants the whole fleet in New York for a meeting..." John replies, his low ponytail of curly brown hair bouncing lightly as he snickers and attempts to pause for dramatic effect. "There's rumours floating around that a British ship is in the area. Maybe a privateer, maybe an admiral, who knows? But, we do know that they're alone. A sitting duck made of gold, ey?" He then adds as he slings his arm around Alexander's shoulders and nudges him in the side. "What do ya say, 'Lex? Up for a little more action?"

                "And this is why I picked you as a first mate, Mr. Laurens, nothing ever slips past you," Alexander replies as he pats John on the shoulder. "Now let's get to it, savvy? Get yourself dressed up, this is one hell of an occasion after all." The captain adds before he steps up to the railing above his quarters to address his crew. "Listen up ya scurvy dogs! A little birdie just told me that there's a British ship in these here waters... So let's pay 'em a little visit, ey?" He calls out, earning a round of cheers and laughter from his crew. "Now that's what I like to hear! I want you all at your stations; you know who you are and where you're supposed to be! We ain't gonna let this opportunity pass us by because of a little slip up!!" He finishes with a stern shout, causing his crew to rush off to get to work with a resounding chorus of 'Aye, captain's!'

                "So, how do I look?" John then asks as he walks up behind Hamilton, now toting a bright yellow coat and a couple of golden necklaces.

                "Absolutely ravishing, Johnny boy. Now let's stick it to those British pricks in style." Hamilton replies with a smirk as he looks his first mate up and down before he steps behind the wheel and starts to set a new course.

                "D'you think ol' Washington will be impressed if we manage to bring back that Brit alive? Keep him prisoner, have some fun, get a couple trinkets for The Hurricane as a reward?" John then comments with a little smirk, his freckles crinkling as he snickers under his breath and nudges Alexander's side again.

                "Hmm, maybe... But imagine all the information he'd have stored in a head big enough to hold a British ego, ey?" He replies with a glint in his eyes, "We get him to spill, and those tea-loving pricks will never get the jump on us again!" The captain then cheers with a bright laugh before Phillip the parakeet chirps loudly and echoes the calls of a few of the crew up on the ropes before it pulls Hamilton over to the starboard side of the ship. "Eh? What's that, Pip? You've already found 'em? It's not like they're not even trying!" He states jokingly before he takes the telescope John was holding out to him and scans the horizon.

                "Neptune must be smiling on us today, ey, 'Lex? Not every day we see a ship as big as that." The first mate mutters as he steals back his telescope for a moment and focuses in on the Union Jack flying on the tallest of a duo of masts.

                "He certainly must be, Johnny boy, now let's throw 'em a little surprise party," Hamilton states with a nearly wicked smirk before he turns back to his crew. "Dead ahead, lads, we're right on their tail!" He shouts, and the bilander picks up speed as the sails are dropped and catch the wind behind them. It's only a matter of minutes before The Hurricane is pulling up behind the British schooner, and Alexander pulls out his revolver to signal one final order.

                " _FIRE!!"_


End file.
